lalaxyzz

[lalaxyzz]

Why?

[lalaxyzz]

Pov: Me when I see a cool alternative person when I'm wearing my most basic ass outfit........

[lalaxyzz]

This is all i needed the past few weeks!

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Chapter 2: February 1899

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Arthur Morgan x f!reader

word count: 2.4k

Chapter 1 /// Chapter 3

series masterlist

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warnings: fluff, mentions of kidnapping and prostitution, not canon to storyline, set around chapter 2 of rdr2, no TB au, slow burn, romance, affection, NO HATE FOR MARY IN THIS PART!! just had to use that as a device for Arthur to stop being thick !! #I love mary!!

a/n: at the end !

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Early February 1899

Arthur was rarely around camp lately, the jobs grew more complicated, hunting trips doubled in length, even riding into town was beginning to take a few days for him. It was as if he wasn't there, like a ghost that occasionally haunted the camp. But there was something else keeping him away from camp.

His old girlfriend, Mary, she was a kind and sweet woman who found herself in trouble with her family rather often, and Arthur was always willing to help. Maybe he still felt something for her, or maybe he just felt obliged to help her, but the regret was settling in.

All it left him thinking about was the sweet girl he left behind at camp, the girl he had neglected visiting and the girl he felt was more than a friend to him.

He still bought her little gifts and books every time he arrived home, but she missed him. Missed presents in camp, missed her dear friend, whilst he spent time with Mary.

She was blissfully unaware that Mary had been writing to him, the woman made him feel like a damn fool but he felt obliged to helping her. But that morning in February she took it too far, leading him on and making him look like a tool, he felt it hit him like a stagecoach when she told him all about her fiancée.

All his mind was on was his girl back at camp, he had missed her but had been blinded by his loyalty to Mary. Such a foolish excuse. He knew he had barely seen her over the past few weeks, the last time he had properly spoken to her was the day he bought all those books home for her at the tail end of January.

She had made him breakfast and they sat by the campfire together as she read to him, he ate quietly and listened contently, as if that was where he was meant to be all along. Dutch had woken up and called Arthur away for a job, so he murmured a goodbye and gently patted her arm.

Now there he was, fast asleep in his tent, blissfully unaware of the world around him. There was a chill to the breeze, the rain had fallen all night but had settled for dawn now, the trees and plants were still barren yet some little shoots were beginning to appear. The spring was coming, the new blossoms were appearing and everything was slowly changing. The air had the scent if fresh rain and it provided comfort and peace.

On the other side of the tent, she was waiting for him, a mug of coffee in hand and a large, worn jacket and woollen scarf thrown over her plain dress, she shuffled nervously in the grass in her scuffed up boots. Quietly, she slipped into the tent and set the coffee down for him and whispered, "Arthur...Arthur wake up, please" as she perched on the bed and gently poked at his thick bicep which was hanging over the edge of the blanket.

He sat up, panicked as if something had happened, "Darlin'...darlin' what's wrong, yer not hurt are ya?" He murmured quietly as he leant forward to check her over with his watercolour eyes. His hands reached for her subconsciously but in a moment of awareness he clutched the sheet on his bed instead.

"I'm...Arthur, I'm okay," She murmured softly as she picked up the mug of coffee and gently passed it to him whispering, "I-It's for you..."

"Well thank you, darlin'...what did I do to deserve this then, hm?" He drawled sleepily with a slight grin, he knew that no matter how long he left or how awful he felt, she would always be kind and gentle with him. She saw the best in everyone, even when they couldn't see much more than a lowlife or an outlaw, she saw the traits most people kept hidden.

"Nothing...just noticed you came home," She mumbled shyly as he sipped the coffee and watched her intently, it took everything in her not to wrap her arms around him and cry and beg him to stay and not leave again, he was a wanted man so her nerves were always on edge when he left. She couldn't lose anyone else.

He nodded wordlessly, as if he understood why she was here, as if he understood her anxiety about him leaving, as if he understood her loss, despite him being blissfully unaware to her past loss. Loss which she kept hidden from the world.

"Missed ya,"

The words shook her to her core.

Arthur Morgan genuinely missed her, the man who could have any girl he liked, the gruff outlaw who was merely just another friend. He missed her?

"I-...I missed you too, Morgan" She murmured quietly in return and added, "Thought you were off seeing Mary, mustn't have had much time to be missing me."

Her words were so self deprecatory it made his heart ache, whether she was jealous or anxious or upset that he left, it hurt that she would think of herself like that.

"I always have time to think of you, darlin'...yer a sweet girl, always caring and being gentle," He mumbled sheepishly before setting his mug down on the small crate beside his bed and reached for his satchel from the floor, rooting in his bag, "Got ya another book, I quite liked the sound of it...yer fancy reading a bit to me now?"

Flustered and shy, she awkwardly tried to settle herself on his camping cot, positioning herself close to him as she started to read to him. Sure, she stuttered a few times, missed a few words, blushed and whispered apologies when she said the wrong word, but he loved it. It was obvious she was used to reading alone, so he mentally noted that he would take it upon himself to keep her company.

This was his sweet girl that he had missed whilst he had been away helping a woman who barely cared for him anymore. She didn't know it yet but he was determined to make her his, no matter the consequences or the struggle.

In a moment of pure confidence, he gently wrapped an arm around her and her words faltered, her stutter was out of control and her cheeks were burning a deep crimson. So, he whispered, "Keep reading to me sugar, I'm just needing you a little closer...is that okay with you?"

"Y-Yes, of course...just weren't expecting it, you...you okay, did something happen?" She mumbled awkwardly as her neck flushed a deep maroon that almost matched her woollen scarf.

He nodded wordlessly and rested his head on her shoulder and whispered, "Just missed ya...and yer reading, carry on, I've taken quite a liking to yer romance novels, sugar" He gently started to fidget with her scarf which was soft and had her scent all over it.

Their morning was spent bundled up in jackets, in his tent's little cot as he held her and listened to her read a few chapters of her book to him. The next morning was the same, and the one after that, and the one after that, until it began to happen every day.

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Mid February 1899

Midnight. Arthur had snook into her tent before leaving on a job with Dutch and the others for a few days. It was the eve of Valentine's day.

She wasn't his girl. He wasn't her boy.

Yet, he wanted to do something for her, to make her smile and feel loved even if it was from a man who was merely just a friend to her.

Tucked away in a small bag was a little necklace, gold and dainty, more expensive than anything she could afford. It was the type of necklace a girl like her could only dream of, a luxury she shouldn't have.

Tears filled her eyes in the morning as she lay in bed, all alone, staring at the necklace. It was the kindest and sweetest gesture anyone had ever done for her.

The little envelope was settled on the soft bedding next to her, a plain envelope with her name scrawled on it in Arthur's neat handwriting.

She slowly unpeeled the envelope and pulled out the little passage he had written for her.

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Morning Darlin'

I'm sorry I left whilst you were sleeping, didn't get a chance to say good bye.

Happy valentine's day, I know we ain't a couple, nothing like John and Abigail, yet I wanted to give you this to show you that you mean a lot to me. You're a dear friend to me and I hope you understand that.

I found this little necklace in town and it made me think of you, I thought about buying you another book but this was perfect for you. Besides, I bring you books most days, darlin'.

Hope you have a good morning, sugar and I'll bring you some flowers home.

Yours,

Arthur Morgan

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She lay quietly sobbing and clutching the letter, her heart felt full in a way she couldn't describe. No one had ever cared enough for her to write sweet words, gift her such a delicate gift, treat her as if she was like any other girl.

She was used to being forgotten about, she had lost her family very young and had fallen into a life working at the saloon's before an O'Driscoll boy abducted her. She was yet to share that with Arthur but it was a deep rooted trauma that lead her to being stranded in the mountains when he found her.

She had never been treated with such care before, but Arthur had vowed go change that, to show her what it was like to be loved.

He arrived in the evening with a small bouquet of flowers in his hand as he brushed off the other's to find her. He's spent his day helping Dutch and running errands but all he wanted was to giver her some flowers and help her put the necklace on and give her a hug.

"Darlin'?" Arthur murmured softly as he wrapped her arms around her as she wandered across camp, taking care not to crush the flowers.

She wrapped her arms around him in return as she whispered back, "Arthur...your home," as she clung tightly to him as if trying to keep him close and thank him through her actions.

"You get my gift, sugar?" He murmured softly against her ear as she held him close, "Yer liked it didn't you, if yer not the kind of girl who wears gold I can get yer a new one," he pulled away slightly to show her the flowers and murmured, "and I got these for yer."

Her face light up as she took the flowers from him and held them close and murmured, "it's perfect...'s all perfect, your perfect...I mean your too kind, the necklace's in my pocket,"

He gently reached into her pocket and whispered, "Turn around for me, darlin'...I'll put it on for yer"

Without any hesitation, and still clutching the bouquet she turned around to let him clasp her necklace.

His touch was gentle, something she was growing used to, as he brushed her hair to the side to expose her freckled neck. He gently skimmed his fingers over her neck and gently pulled the necklace around it and gently clasped it.

"Does that feel okay, sugar?" He murmured softly against her neck before gently stroking her hair. The air was thick and full of tension as the sun was beginning to set.

"It's perfect, honey" She whispered quietly as she leant back slightly against him. It was the first time she had called him any sort of nickname, it was always Arthur to her, as if she was too scared to let him in. But he noticed, he noticed the pet name, the trust she had in him.

He gently wrapped his arms around her from behind and held her close as he let his chest rise and fall against her back. He could smell her hair and perfume, he could hear the way her breathing softened, he felt at home. He could only hope that she felt the same.

She wasn't intending to let him in. But he was in, he had weaselled into her heart, the folds of her brain, he was under skin and there was no chance she could push him far enough away now.

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Late February 1899

It had been several days since he had given her the necklace. Since he had touched her so gently. Since he had gently fixed a small piece of her heart.

The pair were now curled up beside the campfire in the evening glow of the moon and the campfire whilst she read quietly to him and he say next to her with his arms around her. Their friendship was continuing to blossom, he was never too forward with her knowing she was shy and sweet and there was an underlying story she was yet to tell him.

He gently twirled a lock of her hair as he held her closer as he listened to her read before murmuring, "You warm enough, sugar?" as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and adding, "Anything you need or you okay, darlin'?"

"I'm okay, honey" She murmured softly as she paused her reading and gently traced her fingers over the pages, as she rests herself on him properly, "You getting tired?" She asked him gently as she glanced up to check on him. Just as caring and loving as always.

"No, darlin' just keep on reading," He mumbled sleepily into her hair as he kept his arms loosely around her. The campfire was crackling and the sun was pretty much set, his ocean blue eyes were sleepy and his eyelashes were brushing against his cheek, the soft glow of the fire was illuminating his scared face.

As she continued reading he rested his nose in her hair and slowly drifted to sleep as he loosely held her. His snores were muffled slightly by her hair and her book fell from her grasp as she fell asleep in his arms.

The air was warmed by the campfire and the atmosphere was comforting and intimate, they held each other like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. The flowers were blossoming around camp, the trees leaves were returning, Arthur's feelings were growing and so were hers. It was only a matter of time before everything was blooming brightly in full. Who would cave first and whisper the words, the confession?

Only time could tell...

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a/n: hello lovies! I have been procrastinating my studies to carry on with this story, I don't have much of a plan but I've got a few idea for upcoming parts, hope you all like this as I am loving making it. Keep yourselves safe and make sure to reblog and like (maybe even a cheeky follow) if you're enjoying the series. Aiming to get Chapter 3 out soon!

taglist: @photo1030 @marchsfreakshow